Grey
by emicha
Summary: -Gone was the aura of invincibility (...). Like an injured animal he'd crawled away into hiding. She'd seen him hurt before. In fact, she'd stitched him up so many times that she'd lost count. It took only one gaze at him to bring back memories of nights spent cleaning up her little bathroom that at times had looked like a crime scene. It was the old spiel.-


It looked like the sun had refused to rise that day. What little light could penetrate the heavy clouds illuminated nothing but burning earth and harsh waves that beat against the docks. The rain muffled the sounds of gunfire and screams coming from every direction of the harbour.

It was the perfect day to die.

But she didn't plan on dying. Certainly not today and hopefully not tomorrow either. It had taken her a long time to realize that life still had so much in store for her, but when she'd spotted him firing at her friends and partners, whom she'd lost track of in the disaster of the fight, it was decided.  
Under no circumstances could she tolerate continuing to coexist in a world that included him any longer. So when she'd spotted him entering some storage hall offside the main action a while later, she'd followed.

He didn't even notice when she found him slumped against one of the many shipping containers within the draughty space. Gone was the aura of invincibility that had surrounded him up until now. Like an injured animal he'd crawled away into hiding.

She'd seen him hurt before. In fact, she'd stitched him up so many times that she'd lost count. It took only one gaze at him to bring back memories of nights spent cleaning up her little bathroom that at times had looked like a crime scene.

It was the old spiel even now. She considered all the blood on him, wondering how much of it actually was his own and if she even wanted to know how he'd gotten hurt in the first place.  
Standing a few steps away from him, she couldn't tell where his injury was located but his ashen face and heavy breathing let her know that this time, his wounds couldn't be stitched up as easily as she'd used to do.  
Hoping that he was in agony, she stepped forward.

"Don't move."  
Only then did he look up at her; the gun pointed at his head. If he was surprised to see her, he hid it well. Even after all the time they'd known each other, it was hard to read his face.  
All she knew was that she hated the way he looked her over as if he knew something she didn't, as if he still had the upper hand in a game he'd long-lost. It gave her a feeling of nakedness.  
She watched the gun lying next to him. Following her gaze, he slowly pushed it towards her.

"This one is empty, Sherry."  
She hated his voice, too. There was pain in it but not enough to shadow over the all too familiar way he used to speak and say her name whenever they were alone. It made her shiver; in whatever way, it always had.  
"And the other ones?" He was a fool if he thought she would believe that he had only one weapon on him.  
"As empty."  
She raised her eyebrow but he simply shrugged. "It's been a busy day."

Staring down at him kneeling in front of her she almost felt the ghost of a long-lost pulsing between her thighs. The pulsing was inside her head now, though, where it should've stayed all along.  
She'd been a fool for loving and trusting him. Was it naïve of her to believe his words now? Was he lying or was he really so weak that he couldn't put up a fight any longer?  
Either way, she wanted to finish what she'd come for before she found out.

It would take nothing but a twitch of her finger to embed a bullet in his head. _Killing somebody is that easy_ , she though, but she noticed that her hands were shaking.

Her limbs had trembled with pleasure once, but what was the reason now?  
Was it fear? Hatred? Pain?  
 _Pull the trigger._  
She looked down at the man she'd gifted her heart once, her body and soul. He'd taken everything from her, and he would keep taking and taking if she didn't stop him. She needed him dead, or she wouldn't ever be at peace.  
But killing somebody face to face didn't come easy at all.

"I didn't hesitate like that before I killed your sister." When he had the audacity to smirk at her, she almost pulled the trigger.  
"I don't doubt that."  
"Then why hesitate? I know you are more than capable of using that gun on me. You had an extraordinary teacher after all."  
She clenched her teeth and tried to stop her arm from shaking.

"Go for the head. One shot and it's done, love. Or are you afraid to taint yourself any further by killing me? Don't worry about that. You've so much blood on your hands already, one more stain won't change the picture."  
She didn't know why she was hesitating and she hated that it took him nothing but one look to see her struggle, her fears and doubts. She was an open book to him.  
Nothing had changed. Was he right? Had she done so much bad, given him so much of her already that her soul was indistinguishable from black or grey?

"Stop it." She was trembling all over and she couldn't tell if it was from anger or holding back tears.  
"That's what your sister begged me to do when she found out I didn't only have an eye on you but that I had in my bed as well."  
She decided on anger then.  
"Don't you dare speak of her." The shaking stopped and suddenly blowing his damn face away seemed very easy after all.

"You think you've corrupted me forever just because you've had your dick inside me a few times. You think you're under my skin but I'm pretty sure it's the other way round. How much sleep did I cost you? Did it eat you alive not being able to figure out where I'd gone?"

She didn't let him answer. She didn't care for anything he might've left to say. It didn't matter.  
Her finger settled on the trigger, gone was doubt and fear. She had already started pulling down the trigger, when she spotted it in his eyes.

She'd looked into his eyes often. She'd liked the way the street lights had illuminated the green of them in the dark. She'd seen many things in them over time.  
She'd gazed hatred and anger, laughter and lust. Fondness even.  
But what she saw now was something she'd never expected to witness.

She could see a silent plea now, barely there, hidden beneath sharp words.

She lowered her gun.  
"You actually want me to kill you."

For a moment they just stared at each other. The rain outside grew stronger, louder. She almost didn't hear him scoffing.  
"The Organization is dead. You came for revenge and you shall have it."  
It was her turn to scoff at him. "How generous of you."  
"For old times' sake."  
He looked her over again. It didn't feel as penetrating as before, and yet this look was no stranger to her. It felt soft on her face, like it had done in those early mornings when she'd pretended to be asleep so he wouldn't stop caressing her skin or looking at her like she was special.

"Remember those times?" He asked.

Remembering she did. She remembered the times when the people she loved didn't bleed out on cold stone-floors. When it had been lips pressing against her skin, not the cold barrel of a gun. When his sins and her innocence resulted into neither white nor black but something in between. And what a fine mix they had been.

"You were the only good thing about me." It sounded like a confession and for once she assumed it wasn't filled with lies.  
"And of course you had to destroy your one weak spot."

A laughter escaped his tensed mouth.  
"I don't think I did. If anything, I only made you stronger."

She didn't return the laughter. "Do you expect me to thank you for that?"

"It's not that I want gratitude; just pay your debt."

"I don't recall owing you anything."  
His face darkened then. "I spared your life on that roof last winter. Repay me with a bullet, Shiho."  
She considered him. She knew exactly what he tried to make her do and it was pathetic. Whatever the colour of her soul, she didn't want to dye it a deeper hue than it already was. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of doing his bidding, nor would she release a coward from his misery.  
"Do it yourself, Jin."

Perhaps she was a fool after all, she thought, when she laid down her gun in front of him.  
"You have one shot."

She didn't wait for a reply and turned to leave.

At first she took her steps cautiously; what if all of this had been nothing but a farce and he fired at her after all? But there was no attack. Not after five steps, nor after twenty.

The shot only echoed behind her when she'd left the building. She hadn't expected to hear it surrounded by the heavy rain. She stopped and looked back where she'd just come from. Her body started to tremble again. _Because of the cold_ , she reassured herself.

She remembered that she needed to return to her friends, but her eyes burned. She couldn't tell if it was tears running down her face or just the rain.  
After all, it was a grey day.


End file.
